


can't paint an elephant

by dami_an



Series: drib and drab [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Colors, M/M, Romance, am in love with fukurodani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 11:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10718565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dami_an/pseuds/dami_an
Summary: "Pardon me?""The flowers, they're soft blue.""You have met your soulmate? You're so lucky."





	can't paint an elephant

 

 

It's spring, where the world is dull and monochrome when it happens. The first thing Konoha notices about Bokuto Koutarou is his eyes—his golden-colored eyes, so bright, so shining, so alive that it throws him off completely for a few brief seconds before a smile breaks across his face, followed by realization dawning on him that, this is it, for real, Bokuto Koutarou is his soul—

"Man, your hair, they're in a light shade, I'm wondering what color they are," Bokuto says with a blinding grin, and Konoha realizes that, oh, he doesn't see me in colors.

They say when you find your soulmate, the world would burst in colors. It'd feel like someone splashes colors into your eyes, and everything would be clear and beautiful like the blue sky, cut open by branches of sakura petals, pink and brown and soft and natural, like the green grass beneath your shoes, fresh and earthy, and yet nothing can be compared to the beauty of your soulmate.

Konoha experiences exactly those things, and they're beautiful, he admits it. It's so visceral and sudden. He can barely breathe. His heart is racing so fast he thinks his head might explode. For the first time in his life, he knows whom he belongs to and it's perfect.

Except that now he realizes that he's not his soulmate's soulmate, and that shatters every hope he's been building from young.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Konoha tells his parents about this at dinner. He tells them that Bokuto Koutarou is his soulmate. He tells them that he's a freshman like him, but no, they're not in the same class. He tells him that he's a volleyball player and a wing spiker like him. And he tells them that no, Bokuto Koutarou doesn't see him in colors.

The atmosphere feels heavy after he told them this. His parents share a passing, concerned look with each other across the table. Then his mother gives his shoulder a light squeeze and says, "It's alright, honey. Maybe Bokuto-kun is taking his time. Just give him some moment, okay?"

His father agrees, "It doesn't necessarily happen in instant. You should consider yourself lucky because it's someone from the same club. It took us years to find each other after that."

Konoha stares at his rice bowl, almost mournfully, "Yeah."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At Bokuto's insistence, he hangs out with him during the lunch break. Bokuto loudly introduces him to Komi Haruki and Sarukui Yamato. In return, he introduces them to Washio Tatsuki, a scary-looking guy from his own class.

Apparently, Komi shares the same traits with Bokuto despite the glaring difference in their height and body size. He's loud and annoying and thinks himself funny, which are probably the reason how they found the same wavelength. His brown eyes twinkle when he laughs, and there's a splotch of oil, yellowish and dirty, on his uniform because he's a careless eater.

Sarukui isn't as loud but he gets Komi and Bokuto's ridiculous jokes just fine. The smile seems persistent on his face, and Konoha begins to wonder if he ever frowned at all—later Sarukui shares with them it runs down his family, and he wonders aloud if he could find his soulmate soon because Sarukui wants to know the color of his eyes and hair. His parents aren't soulmates, so none of them can confirm to him if he inherited the color from his mother or his father.

Konoha wants to tell him that it's actually dark brown, but it's cut short by Bokuto's exclamation, "Yeah, me too! So I can dye my hair!"

"You serious, dude?" Komi raises a brow.

"Yeah! My best bro, Kuroo, told me I'd look super good if I dyed my hair gray. You know, because great horned owls are gray, and I love them so much. They're so cool!"

Sarukui laughs, "That explains your ridiculous hair."

"Hey, it's awesome, okay?!"

"Just go to the salon," Washio pipes up from Konoha's right side, "Find one with soulmate certifications and you'll be fine. They can see colors just fine."

"But I can't confirm it! I mean, they can dye it pink, and it'll still look the same light shade of gray to me. I can't tell the difference," Bokuto whines.

I can, but Konoha doesn't say this.

Instead, he says, "Man, I'd pay million to see that happen. Bokuto in pink, that'd be hilarious."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Soft blue," Konoha says, out of pity to a girl who grumbles to herself about the inability of seeing colors. The girl has brown hair, and the tip of her hair meshes wonderfully with the bouquets of flowers behind her when sunlight paints over her.

"Pardon me?"

"The flowers, they're soft blue."

"You have met your soulmate? You're so lucky."

Konoha offers her a grin and leaves. He remembers Bokuto's golden-colored eyes, and the grin feels so hollow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bokuto is a great spiker. Konoha knows this. Everyone knows this. His reputation precedes him, circulating among the middle school volleyball circuit, and now the high school circuit. There isn't a single team out there that hasn't heard of Bokuto Koutarou, or his powerful crosses.

Even the coach welcomes Bokuto into the team with open arms. He's the only freshman who manages to get into the first string, and if he's able to control his mood swings, he's promised to join them as a starting player.

Bokuto openly flaunts his happiness by wearing the jersey during the lunch break. Sarukui whistles, impressed. Washio mutters his congratulatory under his breath but he expresses his happiness for Bokuto with a gleam of wistful in his dark brown eyes while Komi snaps a picture with him. Konoha doesn't warn him about Bokuto's messy cheek, slick from the bright red chili sauce he's gotten from the sausage bread as Bokuto presses his face against Komi's, too distracted by the twinkle of happiness in Bokuto's eyes.

"I'm wondering what colors they are," Sarukui says, picking at the hem of Bokuto's sleeve.

Bokuto answers, "Coach said it's black and white, with yellow stripes. I'm more concerned if it looks good on me, though."

Oh boy, he has no idea, Konoha thinks. The jersey looks very good on him. The stripes of yellow, bordered by black, make his golden-colored eyes stand out, and Konoha finds them more mesmerizing. It's like they're real gold, precious and expensive and beautiful.

But Konoha swallows them, just like how he swallows his rice down his throat.

Soundlessly and painfully.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His mother places a plate of watermelon slice on his study desk. "Honey, has Bokuto-kun—"

Konoha shakes his head and buries himself in homework for the rest evening, in hopes of distracting himself from the plummeting feeling in his chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fukurodani Academy is a powerhouse school, so it only makes sense that the training is insanely tiring. Nekoma High is famous for their god-like reflexes and receives. Ubugawa trusts their serves more than anything else, and Shinzen confuses their opponents with their crazy combinations.

Komi is sporting more purplish bruises on his small body every time Konoha glances over, blooming like flowers. Sarukui's right shoulder is growing more muscles, firmer compared to their first meeting, from the countless spikes he's getting in, while Washio is getting his timing better and better to block his opponents.

It isn't much, but Konoha is getting better at setting and spiking. After learning some trick from Komi, he can connect the play better. He's not the best, Konoha knows this. But he's decent enough to be chosen playing against Ubugawa once, and that exhilarates him.

Then again, it's obvious that Bokuto is going to take the spotlight, even if he doesn't mean to. Every time he spikes the ball in, the impact sound resounds through the gym, loud and clear. The first time it happened, it took everyone by surprise. The silence followed was so haunting and scary because it was so heavy. So powerful.

As if it announced the whole world that 'hey, hey, hey, Bokuto Koutarou is here!'

And it made Konoha's heart swell in proud. He couldn't help smiling. It displayed his soulmate's strength and incredibility and talent and—

No, not yet, Konoha refused to delude himself into that, not before Bokuto sees him in colors as well.

A lanky guy from Nekoma snickered under his breath, "That owl bastard, loud as always."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Later he learns the lanky guy's name from Bokuto—Kuroo Tetsurou, and it sounds as suspicious as he appears. He also learns that Kuroo can see colors just fine, which is why he suggested Bokuto to dye his hair gray.

He doesn't ask who they are, though.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the camp training ended, Bokuto comes back to school with a new hairstyle. It's gray, just like how he's been dreaming for, and it suits his boisterous personality, albeit a bit odd. His golden-colored eyes are no longer stand out (still beautiful, nonetheless) but Konoha has some difficulty in tearing his gaze away from him. For some reason, his focus is magnetized towards the rest of him—his muscular arms, his well-toned skin, his broad chest, his strong thighs, and his soft lips.

It's extremely distracting.

"Dude, Harada-sensei is gonna chase your ass around the school, you know that?" Komi asks around a mouthful of ramen.

"Anything for my owlish look," Bokuto beams.

The grin on his face is so blinding that it's too painful for Konoha to see.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They say diamonds are the most beautiful jewelry in the world.

Konoha thinks it is gold.

Like Bokuto's eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He receives a confession one day, under a naked tree, hidden in the garden at the back of the school. Her tears are obscured behind her black, curly fringes, her fingers grip her dark gray skirt so tight her knuckles almost turn white.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I just wish I could—I'm sorry."

She bows deeply and runs away. He hates himself for making a good girl cry. He hates the soulmate system for making him bound to one person only. He hates Bokuto for making him—

"Ah, there you are!"

Bokuto's loud shout brings his head around. His golden-colored eyes are sparkling. The radiant smile on his face makes Konoha hate himself even more for being so weak.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's winter, and he sees Christmas in red and white for the first time. Tokyo is bathed in red, glowed by colorful lamps, a stark contrast to the white scenery the season has blessed them with.

Bokuto's attire is horribly ugly when he shows up at their party—a blue scarf, a yellow checkered winter jacket, a pair of dark jeans, deep purple boots, and gods, what's with that pink muffler. In short, Bokuto looks hideous but it puts a smile on Konoha's face anyway, because it's so… Bokuto, and really, he loves all of Bokuto.

If and only if Bokuto could see how much effort he put into his clothes as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They don't win the tournament. Bokuto's crosses get blocked too frequently that it frustrates Konoha so much. Not at Bokuto. Instead, he's frustrated at himself for not being able to be on the court to create a clear path for Bokuto. Never once he felt so longing to be on the same court with Bokuto quite like this.

Bokuto never gives up, though. He soars through like the sky belongs to him, and the spotlights highlight shadows on his entire frame, making him almost ethereal, surreal before he shatters the ground with his powerful spike. The fire in his golden-colored eyes never diminishes. It keeps glowing brighter and brighter and brighter and—

Konoha bites his bottom lip.

He's so in love with Bokuto.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I love my soulmate," he blurts out in front of his father without meaning to.

His father doesn't say anything. He gets up from the couch and gives a squeeze on his shoulder. He doesn't linger, either.

The ghost of the squeeze on his shoulder does.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's spring when it happens.

Bokuto's eyes light up so bright, brighter than he's ever seen. There's a flash of recognition in them like a sense of realization is settling in him, a big one that it steals his breath away. An admiration look crosses his face, followed by a wide, broad grin, and Konoha knows that look.

Konoha knows because he experienced them as well. He experienced them last spring, when he found out Bokuto is his soulmate.

Bokuto's world is turning colorful. The moment he's been waiting for. The moment that he prayed for every night before going to bed. The moment that he wished last Tanabata at the shrine. And it's happening.

Except that those golden-colored eyes aren't looking at him.

No, Bokuto isn't looking at him. He's looking at a freshman far at the end of the hallway as he passes his application form to Shirofuku, and Konoha's heart drops to his stomach.

His heart shatters when Bokuto takes no notice of him leaving, distracted by the freshman.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Washio finds him hiding at the rooftop. He sits down beside him, quiet and polite, and when Washio speaks, it's tentative like he's a piece of fragile glass, "Your soulmate, it's Bokuto, isn't it?"

Konoha buries his face in his folded arms perched on the drawn-up knees. "Yeah."

"But you're not his."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

The day is as bright as ever, but his day not.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The freshman's name is Akaashi Keiji, he discovers later at the gym. He announces to the entire team that he's a setter, and after that, Bokuto's happiness can no longer be contained. Bokuto leaps in front of him and takes the freshman's hands into his own, shouting, "Please be my setter!" at the top of his voice.

The freshman blinks. Their newly appointed captain whacks Bokuto around the head with a clipboard, and the gym erupts into laughter, Komi's laugh being the loudest, and Sarukui follows close.

His heart throbs painfully.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That night he tells his mother, "I'm not his soulmate," and nothing else.

His mother embraces him until he falls asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi Keiji is welcomed warmly into their circle despite being a year younger. He's polite and adds honorifics to their name. He wears his uniform neatly, with no trace of wrinkle on the suit. He has thick eyebrows, and his hair is curled up in random directions like he hasn't given much attention to them. It gives him a distinct look instead of messy.

"Let me guess, Bokuto pulled you into this," Konoha says because he's raised with manners—and probably a masochist. He takes a seat next to Akaashi since Komi and Sarukui have seated themselves in between Bokuto and Washio.

"Yes, Bokuto-san showed up at the first-year block and called out my name."

"Whoa, one hella way to find you, isn't it? Sorry about that. Should've warned you about his impulsive nature."

Akaashi shakes his head. "I don't mind."

Konoha raises a brow. Skeptical. "Really."

"I saw him in a match last year. He's a great player, and I've been looking up to him since. It's an honor to know him in person," Akaashi says, softly so it doesn't reach everyone else but him, and when he speaks of this, a flash crosses Akaashi's dark blue eyes, familiar and—

Oh.

Konoha looks away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He throws his bottle at the mirror in the school bathroom. It doesn't break like his heart does.

Frustrated, Konoha crouches down and clutches his head. Now he understands why Bokuto never saw him in colors.

Bokuto is his soulmate, but he never was Bokuto's.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bokuto is simple to read. When he's happy, he's loud and annoying. When he's in troubles, he's whiny and clingy. When he's in love, he's both, if not worse.

It's obvious that Bokuto has fallen head over heels in love with Akaashi if his annoying behavior is anything to go by. Bokuto follows Akaashi around like a puppy, or sometimes he drags Akaashi around like Akaashi is his personal human-sized accessory. He sighs and whines a lot in class, wilted like a dying flower without Akaashi around.

It's frustrating. It's painful. It's too much for his broken heart that he bites out, "Oh my god, can you fucking NOT?! Akaashi there, Akaashi this. It's fucking annoying, okay?!"

Bokuto stares at him. His golden-colored eyes are unblinking. Everything falls into silence, unmoving.

"Bro, you okay?" Komi asks.

Konoha snaps out of it and sees Bokuto for real. He looks hurt and Konoha feels shame ball into a disgusting knot in his stomach. He doesn't like this. He doesn't like the look on Bokuto's face. He doesn't like the fact he's the one who put it there.

So he flees, dodging Sarukui who's in the way. He flees from Bokuto, from the rooftop, from the block until he finds an empty toilet. He hides in one of the stalls, sits on the lid and pulls his knees to his chest.

"Fuck, fucking, fuckity…"

His broken sobs fill the stench air. It smells acidic but he stays. He doesn't leave the stall until the lunch break over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He avoids Bokuto for the rest of the week. Washio becomes the middle man to keep him updated about Bokuto and the team since he's limited his phone to his parents' numbers only. He tells him that Bokuto is restless. He tells him that Bokuto wants to speak to him. He tells him that Bokuto wants to see him.

Konoha declines them although he knows this is wrong. Bokuto deserves so much more, and he's going to hate him if this continues.

But that's okay, he reassures himself, that's okay. Maybe this feeling will go away, then. Maybe his world will turn monochrome again like it's supposed to be. Back to everything before this soulmate shit happened. Back to his normal life—

"Konoha?"

Bokuto's voice lifts his eyes up. Konoha is dumbstruck by the sight of Bokuto in the doorway of his classroom. In an unusual small voice, he asks, "Can we talk?"

Konoha stares at him and then acquiesces. He goes to the door and leads him to the hallway for privacy. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, defensive, "What is it?"

"I'm sorry I annoyed you. I shouldn't do that. I should've considered you too."

His breath hitches in his throat. This isn't how he envisioned things. Bokuto is supposed to hate him. Bokuto is supposed to be angry at him. Bokuto is supposed to tell him off—

And then he remembers Bokuto isn't anything like that. Bokuto is loud and kind and forgiving and everything he wishes his soulmate to be.

He is, but not.

"Bokuto, I'm sorry too, snapping out like that at you."

Bokuto's eyes flick up at him. They're as golden as he remembers them. Then they become brighter as a wide smile takes over his face. Bokuto flings his arms around him, "Accepted!"

Konoha wants to cry so badly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He still prefers gold over everything else.

Even if it hurts him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He wants to hate Akaashi.

He wants to hate every set Akaashi tosses to Bokuto. He wants to hate every word Akaashi pours over to Bokuto. He wants to hate every smile Akaashi pulls specifically for Bokuto. He wants to hate Akaashi so much.

And yet he can't.

He can't because Akaashi's sets are perfect for Bokuto. He can't because Akaashi's words are kind and forward, just like how Bokuto always needed. He can't because Akaashi's smiles are beautiful and gentle, just like how Bokuto always loved.

And more than anything, Akaashi lights up Bokuto's golden-colored eyes in a way that he can't.

He suffers in his silence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why he keeps clinging, Konoha asks himself one day. What's the point of this feeling?

In his dream where everything is colorful and wonderful, he finds his answer in Bokuto's smile.

Brilliant and beautiful and just for him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi joins as their substitute setter by the time summer rolls around before Konoha even manages to make a cut into the first string, because of his analytical mind and stable emotions. It balances out Bokuto's enthusiasm and mood swings. He makes Bokuto a better player, so no one questions the coach's decision despite Akaashi being a freshman.

Their play is beautiful and synchronized. Akaashi studies Bokuto like he's unsolved mystery, lists down his every weakness like it's his responsibility, matches the pace of the game to Bokuto's liking and paves a perfect path for Bokuto to rip a spike.

He knows Akaashi is perfect for Bokuto. More than everyone else. Because Bokuto looks so brilliantly wonderful on the court with Akaashi's presence. He draws every spotlight to himself. He draws everyone to himself. He draws Konoha in as he takes off the ground, so high as if he's flying.

He knows Akaashi is perfect for Bokuto because Akaashi has the same admiration look on his face when Bokuto leaps off. The look that promises everyone he's going to make Bokuto fly over and over and over again, even if it costs him his everything.

And he knows right then, there's no room for him.

It never was.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Konoha wishes he never met Bokuto.

Because it'd have been easier to not know him at all than forgetting him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's autumn again when he receives another confession. This time the girl requested to meet him at the playground nearby. Konoha debates over accepting the girl's confession on his way to the playground.

Her long, yellow hair falls down her shoulders as she brushes it off her neck. It's bright and beautiful, reminding of a pair of golden-colored eyes—

"I'm sorry," he says, eyes downcast.

The girl is quiet at first, wide-eyed, before the surprise look morphs into a resigned smile. No tears. She's strong, and he feels bad for hurting a strong girl like her. "I'm so sorry," he says again.

"No, it is alright."

"It's just."

"You have someone special already?"

He hesitates, "Ye—yeah."

"Do they know?"

"No."

"Good luck, then," she wishes with a smile and leaves.

He watches her as she rounds a corner. The silence around him is painful. But it's not as painful as the crushing feeling in his chest when he recalls Bokuto's fond look, reserved for Akaashi only.

"You fucking idiot…"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Konoha consults his father that evening, "Is there any way to forget your soulmate?"

His father doesn't answer him. Instead, he tells Konoha to sit with him and listens to him as he pours his heart over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christmas comes, and he's heading for their party with Komi and Sarukui. He doesn't find in him to inform Komi that his beanie is so frigging frivolous—red and purple, why, just why? And Sarukui seems comfortable in his orange scarf, knitted by his grandmother as Konoha was told. The scarf doesn't blend with his dark blue coat but Konoha refrains himself to comment on it after a glance at Sarukui's peaceful face.

The beef restaurant has just entered his view when he's ambushed by Bokuto from behind. He almost chokes on the pressure Bokuto is exerting around his waist. "What the fuck, Bokuto?!"

"He said yes!"

"Huh?!"

"He said yes! Akaashi said yes!"

Sarukui wrenches Bokuto away from Konoha while Komi asks, "Yes to what?"

Bokuto's face is flushed, as red as a strawberry when he takes a deep breath, "Akaashi—I told him that I could see colors because of him, and I asked him if he could see me in colors too."

He knows what comes next, and yet he's still dreading to hear it, to hear it for himself, out of Bokuto's mouth, because that'd mean the end of everything, of his dreams, of his hopes, of his love, of his—

"And yes, he said yes. He could see me in colors. Since last year. Since the match against Itachiyama—"

He tunes everything out after that. All he can hear is the last few pieces of his broken heart shatter into nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He doesn't attend the party. Washio finds in him in a public restroom near the park, curled up in the corner. Washio's face is steady and calm and understanding.

"Washio," he whispers, almost broken, and it feels so painful just to get a word out of his throat.

Washio doesn't say anything. He nears him with measured steps, cautious and careful as if he doesn't want to spook him away. When Washio pulls him into his arms, strong and solid and secure around him, it's as though that's the final straw, and he just  _breaks_.

He wails into Washio's shoulder, loud and painful. He wails loudly until his broken scream pierces through the chill air. He wails loudly until he can't hear his shattering heart. He wails loudly until his throat hurts. He wails and wails and wails until he turns numb and falls asleep on Washio's shoulder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he wakes up, his world has turned monochrome again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His life continues as usual after that. They don't win the tournament again that year, stopped by Inarizaki High School at semifinals. He switches to the third-year block and manages to be their starting player, along with Washio and Komi and Sarukui. Akaashi gets promoted as their vice-captain, and the captaincy torch is passed down to Bokuto.

Bokuto is smiling like a fool, flaunting his happiness around. Akaashi remains indifferent by his side but a ghost of a smile fluttering across his lips is a telltale enough. Bokuto is happy with Akaashi around, Konoha can tell it that much even though he can no longer see Bokuto's golden-colored eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ache is still there, dulled by passing time and colorless world—a kind of pitiful ache, an image of a black and white photograph blending with a colored one.

One-half stuck in a time that can't be brought forward.

And then he takes a look at Washio's face and forgets it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's spring, where the world is dull and monochrome when it happens—for the second time. The first thing Konoha notices about him is his dark brown eyes and remembers that it's always been his color.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'ed
> 
> the title is from 'elephant' by damien rice
> 
> actually, komi-yan comes second after bokuaka, but konoha is special too
> 
> see, see? i need more fukurodani's love


End file.
